"Take him, I have to pee pee. Daddy does not know what we do during the day. Who do you love the most? Do you want to go barefoot? Do you want one shoe on and one shoe off? How does the pumpkin go? How does the shoe go? Do you want daddy to go to the car and get your computer? Giovanni this and Giovanni that. Blah blah blah. Blah. Who loves to snuggle with mommy? Who reads son the best books? Who is the best mommy? Who do you love more, mommy or daddy?"
The above was conversation we overheard last night. We were not eavesdropping. It was all said in a decibel level we didn't have to strain to hear.
Last night was probably the most bizarre night at a restaurant I have ever endured/watched/experienced in my life.
We went to a "new to us" place outside of the town I grew up in. The parking lot was raging full; indicating a good choice. We walked in and were seated in a booth. This was a casual up-scale type place.
Hubs took the side next to the circus show and I sat across, having full view of the nauseating fiasco. There was a young family of three consisting of a little boy, his mother and his father.
This child was climbing on the back of the booth (his whole body was on the divider) and the parents appeared to be oblivious to this. He climbed on the table and jumped on it. The child was knocking pictures off kilter on the walls.
Mother spoke loudly in that whiney bitchey superior tone that you would associate with a snotty "wanna be rich suburban person". She never shut up. Never.
The little boy never sat still. Never.
The father never said a word to either of them. Never.
Dinner was delivered to their table and there was quiet at the table, not for long. When the waiter checked on the meals. "Mommy-Self Absorbed" complained her steak was cold and the grill marks were not right on the cut of steak. All the while she went into making faces at the waiter telling him how gross it was and saying they must have just slapped the meat on the grill twice and threw it on her plate. This went on for about two minutes.
Waiter took back the meat, had it redone and delivered it to "Mommy Princess". She then asked for another sauce. Waiter brought it, and then asked for double sour cream and another iced tea. By the time he comes back, she then goes into drama mode again with all her faces and whining and says this is not a porterhouse steak, it is a gross piece of meat. She can't eat it. It isn't soft. She knows her steaks. This is a cheap cut of meat. It may as well be hamburger. She knows her steaks (I know I typed this twice).
I am truly amazed at this waiter handling this woman. He takes the plate and asks if she wants to order something else. Yes, PrimaDonna is HUNGRY, but she needs to study the menu again. Ten minutes later, she gets the waiter to describe exactly what sausage stuffed peppers are and decides on that.
Those peppers came out SO fast from the kitchen. You could see all of the staff and most of the restaurant guests were aware of this going on.
All the while, the father said nothing.
She never said thank you. She only shut her pie hole long enough to shove a fork full of food in her mouth.
The check came. Father paid, and thanked the waiter, and said his food was very good. Father did have a voice after all.
"Mommy Bitch", got up from the booth. Gave dear son to father. Father had son, all of his toys, his two blankets and his diaper bag.
She lead the threesome out of the restaurant.
I was hurt for the father who had no part of this family, or the control of this child. Mommy is so self-absorbed and she raising up a monster of a brat.
If this was any (and you know it was) indication of this family and their life together, it is heart wrenching.
I don't understand her behavior and I do not understand the father allowing it. Shame on both of them.
And on a side-note: Do any of you know how a pumpkin "goes"?